Love in Equal Measures
by EGB Fan
Summary: Peter is still smarting after the demise of the Ghostbusters, but now he’s only just discovering the meaning of the word “stress”. Suddenly the prospect of a next generation Venkman has daunting connotations for all three of its family members.


**Disclaimer: **_Ghostbusters_ (c) Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis. All original characters were created by the authors.

_Ghostbusters: _**Love in Equal Measures**

_By EGB Fan and RayStantz01_

**Los Angeles, California: August 31st 1992**

Peter Venkman, newly established Hollywood agent: missing New York, missing his friends, missing his father, using his brand new pristine office to hide in and make a panicked phone call. Everything felt strange to him: new family, new job, new home, new situation. He was grateful to hear the familiar voice of an old friend.

"Hey man," Winston Zeddemore greeted him pleasantly. "I've been wondering when I was gonna hear from you. It's been weeks – must have been some honeymoon."

"Oh it was," Peter agreed. "Actually it ended a few weeks ago. Sorry I didn't get in touch sooner – it's been kinda hectic. Dana's pregnant," he added.

"You're kidding!" Winston exclaimed delightedly. "That's wonderful news! Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

"Are you ok?"

"I might even be happier than I was when I married her," Peter told him solemnly. "It's weird, being so dizzy with happiness and so shit scared at the same time."

"It's a little early to be scared, Pete," Winston said dryly. "At least wait until she starts showing."

"It's not the baby I'm scared of," Peter confided. "Or at least not yet. Things are already changing. Dana just seems really, _really _nervous. I mean she says she knows really that it's great news and we're gonna be fine, and I believe her – but when you're pregnant the hormones screw up your mind and… well, you know what happened the last time she was pregnant."

Peter hadn't been around for Dana's first pregnancy, but he _did _know that it hadn't been a lot of fun. It was during the latter half of nineteen-eighty-seven and early 'eighty-eight, when she was still living in New York. She'd had the odd dizzy spell; the morning sickness went on past the stage of pregnancy it was supposed to stop at and her first husband, Andre Wallance, didn't seem to have a clue what to do with her. She'd had to leave the orchestra they both belonged to when her unborn baby made it impossible to play the cello, but that was ok. She wanted to stay home with the baby anyway, at least for the first five or six months.

When Dana went into labour in the small hours of one mid-March morning, she felt that she hadn't been warned of exactly how bad it was going to be. It was more excruciating agony than she ever could have imagined. The doctors and nurses, when they weren't prodding her with cold metal instruments in places she _really _didn't like, were driving her to the brink of insanity with their carefully rehearsed, regurgitated reassurances. And just to make it absolutely unbearable, Andre sat beside her falling asleep. Dana hit him a few times, and screamed at him something that she seemed to remember involved a lot of four-letter words, but despite all this he continued to nod off every so often.

He managed to stay awake when the baby arrived, though – in the twenty-third hour of labour. Dana was absolutely exhausted – not at all surprising when you consider that she had just spent twenty-three hours trying to push out a nine-pound baby – but when she held her son in her arms for the first time she forgot all about wanting to sleep. She forgot about everything, in fact, but her baby. He was absolutely perfect. She'd had a horrible time, but he was absolutely worth it. She could have spent another day in labour and he still would have been worth it.

Andre seemed less impressed. He looked impassive when he held his newborn son, unable to think of anything to say. Dana wondered if perhaps he was too moved to speak, but he didn't look moved. Just a bit stunned. And then he'd handed the baby back to her, announced that the orchestra was rehearsing in twenty minutes and left.

Dana felt slightly stung, but she anticipated that the next few hours wouldn't be so bad. She could feed her baby, see whose features she could pick out in his little red face and perhaps think of some names to suggest to Andre. And then she could sleep. Bliss! She did all this, and found that she felt deliriously happy until she was rudely awakened and told by a doctor that she urgently needed stitches… down there. Once she was fully awake, she noticed that she was lying in a pool of blood. Then suddenly all kinds of hospital workers came in an whisked her away; she barely had time to glance over and see who was going to take care of her baby while this was happening.

Dana's parents were waiting for her when she came back from theatre. The first thing they asked was the baby's name. She told them he didn't have one yet; Andre had left before they got the chance. It was about an hour later that he returned and suggested all manner of ugly pretentious names. In the end Dana agreed that Oscar – a name quite low down on Andre's list – was quite nice. After turning the name over in her mind for a few moments she had said to Andre, "Well, it sounds a bit like orchestra." Not funny, apparently.

For the next month or so Andre seemed very detached, and Dana was slightly perturbed to realise that she didn't care as much as she probably should. As long as she was with Oscar, she was happy. She'd spend the day with him, feeding him and playing with him and excitedly calling her parents every time he did something new. Andre would come home in the evenings and kiss her and his son dispassionately. Dana would then cook a meal and they would sit down and discuss their days. It all seemed very clinical to her, but she knew that stereotypically married life was supposed to be like this, at least after the first child arrived: chaste kisses every now and then, mutual boredom, "spark" (as they call it) completely and utterly gone.

Mind you, there hadn't been much in the way of a "spark" in the first place. Theirs had been more of an intellectual match: they shared the same interests; they found they were so at ease with each other, could talk to each other so effortlessly, that it seemed a good idea to marry. Going back to her on-off relationship with Andre after she ended things with her ex had seemed to Dana exactly what she needed: to be with somebody on her wavelength. But she soon noticed that she hardly ever laughed anymore, which she used to do a lot. But never mind. Andre was much more her type – and he was prepared to marry her, which her ex had never offered to do.

They had been eating dinner one evening when Andre announced to Dana, "I've had an offer from the London Philharmonic Orchestra."

Dana just stared at him blankly for a few moments before saying guardedly, "You're not going to take it?"

"Yes I am," Andre said simply. "It's a wonderful opportunity…"

He had said more, but Dana switched off at that point. She could see his lips moving, but she couldn't hear a single word as she stared over his shoulder to where Oscar was sleeping in the next room. She didn't understand this. The London Philharmonic Orchestra was in London – presumably – but Oscar was in New York. If Andre wanted to join an orchestra in London, that would mean he'd have to leave New York and therefore his son. It took Dana a surprisingly long time to grasp this simple concept. She simply could not understand how Andre could want to leave Oscar.

"So you're leaving us?" she snapped, probably when Andre was in mid-sentence.

"Yes," was the inappropriately simple reply.

"How _can _you?" screeched Dana, suddenly getting to her feet. "How can you leave him? He's just a baby!"

"Calm down, Dana," Andre said coldly. "He _is _just a baby: a baby who gets all your love and attention. Since he arrived I haven't had a look-in from you."

Dana just stared at him. This was ridiculous. Oscar wasn't yet two months old. He was entirely dependant on her for everything. Andre was a grown man. He knew when she got pregnant that he was going to have to share her. And besides, they might have a little bit more time for each other if he'd help out with Oscar when he came home. Changing him, bathing him… they were all things that Dana and Andre could do together. It would also take less time than when Dana did it all alone, leaving more time for her to spend on her husband. But Andre hardly even looked at Oscar, which frankly made Dana feel somewhat disinclined to keep on loving him. She felt that she should tell him all that, but she was too angry now even to speak.

"This is the London Philharmonic Orchestra," Andre went on. "It's important."

It just sounded ridiculous. Wasn't his son important to him? Dana still couldn't speak, but even if she could she didn't want to argue. There was no point. If Andre couldn't see for himself what a blessing their son was, she wasn't going to try and persuade him. He didn't deserve anything as wonderful as Oscar.

No longer in control of her actions, Dana picked up a wine glass (wine at dinner was an Andre Wallance must) and hurled it at his head. Andre ducked, looking startled, and then stared at his wife in absolute amazement as the glass smashed against the wall behind him. _What a cliché_, was all Dana could think for a moment. And then she quite suddenly recovered the power of speech: "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YOU F-ING ASSHOLE!"

He left. Dana burst into tears in exactly the same moment that Oscar did. She ran into his room and picked him up, cuddling him close to her and crying into his romper suit. She didn't know how to comfort him when she felt so awful herself, but as it happened he stopped crying first. Soon enough Dana found that her own tears had dried up. She just sat there with Oscar in her arms, not knowing what to do. In the end she got into bed and fell asleep, and felt pretty angry with herself the next morning for doing something so futile.

After all that, the divorce wasn't going to be easy. Dana seemed to glide through it in a sort of daze, her mind always on her son. She had other things to do besides sit and listen to Andre's solicitor. She needed to get some money coming in. She couldn't go back to the orchestra: she was an appropriate shape for the cello again but she had since discovered that trying to play it too soon after giving birth was extremely uncomfortable and often painful. And besides, she couldn't commit herself to it as much as she wanted to while her son was still so young.

She always came out of her daze on hearing the words "child support". Obviously Andre was going to have to give her some money. Good. She could use that to pay the nanny. Oh God. The nanny. The mere thought of it made her want to burst into tears. She was going to have to go out to work – wherever _that _was – and leave Oscar with a nanny. This was not what she wanted, at least not yet. And she certainly didn't want to do it on her own.

In a moment of madness, Dana picked up the phone book and flipped the pages to V. There he was: the man whose commitment phobia had driven her away from him. As soon as she saw his name, she realised it was a stupid idea. She had been happy with Peter, at least for a while, but he wasn't exactly the kind of person to help you through a messy divorce. _Knowing him_, Dana thought dryly, _he'd probably make it worse_.

And yet here he was, four years later, on the phone to one of his best friends delivering the news that he had made her pregnant.

"And get this," Peter went on. "Dad had already left by the time we got home – I've left him a message telling him the news but I can't seem to get hold of him. I mean… you'd think there'd be a happy medium, wouldn't you?"

"How d'you mean?" asked Winston.

"Dana's parents," Peter sighed despairingly. "You know they looked after Oscar while we were on honeymoon. Well they're still here! I told Dana – I said, 'Wait until they've gone home and then call and tell them.' But she said her mother would find out if she didn't tell her straightaway and get upset – which I suppose she probably would, knowing Detective Val – and now the damn woman insists on staying!"

"For how long?"

"I don't know – forever, probably. It's awful. She doesn't even _pretend _to like me. She keeps clucking around Dana telling her not to strain herself and whenever she sees me she gives me this challenging leave-my-pregnant-daughter-if-you-dare look."

"Well, like you say, you remember what happened last time," reasoned Winston.

"Oh I know," Peter said dryly. "The thing is that Val liked Andre and she hates me. If Mr. Marriage Material left when Oscar was two months old, imagine what a rat like _me _is going to do. She probably thinks I'm gonna smother the baby with a pillow and run off with the silver."

"Well then prove her wrong." He made it sound so simple, which Peter supposed it could be. All he had to do was stick around. "What about Dana's dad?"

"Gerald doesn't talk much, but I think he's quietly worried that I might be about to leave. I suppose I should understand – I'm a psychologist. It's negative reinforcement: after what Andre did, when Dana gets pregnant she worries that she might be ditched."

"She knows you won't leave her," Winston said reassuringly. "Never mind that you love her – it'd be a pretty stupid thing to do after everything you went through with her."

"And I'm worried about Oscar," Peter went on. The way he felt right now, he thought that no matter how many holes Winston plugged up he could start spurting problems from another. "He's jealous already. He's only four but he has a pretty good idea how these things work. He thinks I'm going to love the baby more than I love him."

"Is that what _you _think?"

"I don't know. It's something else I can worry about, I guess."

"Peter, c'mon," Winston said imploringly. "It's gonna be great."

"Oh, sorry – I forgot!" exclaimed Peter. "How's Kaila doing? She must be nearly ready to drop."

"Lovely," Winston remarked dryly. "Well, yeah, she's about as pregnant as you can get. Just a few weeks to go – so you have absolutely no right to be as nervous as I am, ok? And besides, you'll have a better start than I'm getting – you practised on Oscar. And I know it may not seem like it but Dana's parents _are _there to help."

"I know," Peter sighed resignedly. "It's all just making me really homesick for Manhattan – I wish that you and Ray and… and all of you were around to give me some moral support. I just feel like they're all ganging up together in case I decide to leave. Oscar seems the only one who's a-hundred percent sure I won't – but like I say, he's got his own stuff to deal with."

"Peter, how many times do I have to say it?" Winston returned impatiently. "You'll be fine."

x x x

**March 18th 1993**

It was Oscar's fifth birthday. Peter deliberately went home early that day, as close to the end of school as he could, and opened the front door to find his beloved stepson holding the telephone receiver in his hand and staring blankly at it.

"Did someone call?" asked Peter.

"It was Andre," Oscar replied expressionlessly.

"Oh."

"He remembered my birthday."

"Well… good." _Bastard…_

"I think he probably forgot and Kate told him," Oscar said nonchalantly, hanging up the phone. Kate was his stepmother, and did a much better job of remembering things like birthdays than her husband did.

"Hey." Peter crouched down and took Oscar into a tight embrace. "Are you having a good day?"

"Yes," Oscar told him. "Andre called."

"I know sweetheart, you just told me."

"Why does he call me on my birthday? He doesn't normally call me."

"Well your birthday is a special day," Peter said carefully. "And he _is _your father." _Much as it kills me to think of it_.

"But you're my dad," said Oscar, suddenly smiling.

"Yes," grinned Peter, hugging him again. He absolutely _loved _that kid. Oscar was just _so cute_! He had untidy dark hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes. Peter had learnt by now that Dana's eyes were brown, which meant that Oscar had to have inherited his blue eyes from Andre. But Peter didn't care about that. Everything about his little boy was perfect.

"So," Oscar piped up thoughtfully, "there's a baby in Mom's tummy."

"Yes," agreed Peter. "You can see that. The poor kid's probably sick of you driving your toy cars over it."

"Can I ask you something?"

_Uh-oh… _"Sure."

"How did it get there?"

"Ummm… I put it there." It could get awkward, but if Peter stuck fast to one parenting strategy it was _never lie to them _(Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy didn't count).

"Oh." Oscar seemed happy with this answer for all of five seconds. Then he asked, "So where did _you _get it?"

So Peter took a deep breath and told him.

x x x

After she had finished putting her son to bed, Dana looked ready to kill her husband. "_I can't believe you told him_!" she fumed, when she met him out in the hallway.

"Well he asked," Peter defended himself. "I wasn't gonna lie."

"HE'S FIVE!"

"I know."

"So couldn't you make something up?"

"I never lie to him, Dana. If anyone deserves an honest answer it's a five-year-old kid."

"Don't start that," snapped Dana. "Don't start insinuating that you know better than me because you're a psychologist. _I'm his mother_!"

Peter noticed the way she bit her lip as soon as she said it, as though trying to stop anything else iffy from escaping. He looked at her and said evenly, "I'm his father."

"I know," Dana said quickly. Then her face clouded over with concern as she seemed to realise something. "Oh God, it's happening again," she groaned, heading for the nearest seat, which happened to be the bottom of the stairway (she knew as soon as she sat down that she was going to have a hell of a time getting up again). "This is what happened with Andre."

"Is it?" asked Peter, surprised.

"Well not _exactly_ what happened with Andre, obviously. But the pregnancy and now this row… it's a little too close."

"I'm sorry," Peter blurted out, going to sit next to her and taking her hand. "I love you – you know I do. And I love Oscar. I'm not leaving."

"I know," sighed Dana, giving him a weak smile. "I suppose all couples argue."

"Exactly."

"I just… I just _really _wish you hadn't told him."

"Why?" asked Peter. "He had to find out sometime and this seems a pretty good opportunity to explain it to him."

"I know," agreed Dana. "It's just the way he looks at me…"

"Oh, don't worry about that – I'm getting it too," Peter said solemnly.

"It couldn't be as bad," argued Dana. "See, he's figured it out. I could practically see his little brain ticking away in there: _If she did that with Dad to get this baby, she must have done it with Andre to get me_."

"Ok, well that's good," reasoned Peter. "Now he understands why he has one more father than most kids."

"Well yeah, but he obviously thinks I must be pretty sick to do that with Andre. _That's _what bothers me."

"Dana, I've thought that for years."

"I know you have, honey. I still don't know quite what I was thinking. He was my best friend, for crying out loud! I suppose it was all my mother's idea really…"

Dana didn't fully understand how she could regret her marriage to Andre Wallance and yet not want to change a thing about the child she had with him, but that was exactly how she felt. But the really crazy thing was that Peter felt exactly the same way: he couldn't bear to think of Andre in his place for those few unhappy years, but Oscar was perfect. Remarkable even. He'd only just turned five and the kid had obviously been lying awake philosophising.

"Dad," he ventured, while he was finishing off his breakfast and Dana was upstairs doing nothing while she still could. "Is it ok for me to call you Dad?"

"Of course it's ok for you to call me Dad!" Peter exclaimed, alarmed. "It's more than ok. I _love _hearing you call me Dad. I'd be very upset if you stopped."

"But Andre's the one who… you know…" The poor kid looked to be having trouble keeping down his cereal.

"Ok, look," Peter began slowly, wondering how to phrase this kind of stuff to a five year old. "Anyone can make a baby. Well… almost anyone. But being a dad means more than that."

"Like playing soccer and taking me to school and all the stuff you do?" asked Oscar.

"Exactly," Peter smiled at him.

"Isn't it normally the same guy who does both?"

"Normally, I suppose it is," Peter had to agree. "Like the baby Mommy's going to have soon. I helped her make it, and I'm going to stick around and do all of the things for it that I do for you. But Andre… Andre didn't." _Am I poisoning the kid against his biological father? Do I care? I suppose I_ should_ care…_ "So _I'm _doing it because I love your mom and I love _you_." _Oh God, what's he going to ask next? 'Doesn't Andre love me?' Please don't…_

"I love you too."

"Great." Peter hugged him. "So you understand, then – why we say he's your father but I'm your dad?"

"You're going to be the baby's father _and _its dad," Oscar pointed out.

"I know," said Peter. "I know, but it only really matters that I'm its dad, just like I am yours. Ok?"

"Ok."

Smiling with relief, Peter hugged and kissed him to show that he meant it, but he had a strange feeling that Oscar still wasn't quite convinced.

x x x

**March 30th**

A few days before the baby was born, Peter was pacing back and forth nervously on trying to decide what to do about a certain matter. He wanted to call Egon, but at the same time, he was still furious with him. Sure, things weren't that bad for Peter now, he was married, and somewhat successful, but he still wasn't doing what he loved most.

But then, there was this baby thing. Dana was ready to pop any day now. Peter missed having his best friend there for support. He missed the late night talks they used to have over a cup of coco. He missed the companionship they had together, and most of all, he missed being able to tell Egon anything and not being afraid of what Egon thought of him. Peter sighed as he stared at the phone.

"Why don't you just call him?" a voice asked. Peter turned and saw Dana standing in the doorway.

"How do you _do _that?" he asked.

"Because I know you," she smiled. He offered her one of the kitchen chairs and she sat down in it heavily. "I feel like a blimp!" she exclaimed. "I won't miss this part of pregnancy, that's for sure."

Peter smiled a little, "Well you look beautiful," he kissed her cheek.

"Please," Dana rolled her eyes, "I appreciate the effort, but I hardly look beautiful."

Peter shrugged, "Well, I tried," he said.

"You look like you have something on your mind," Dana gestured for him to sit in the chair across from hers.

Peter sat down. "Again, how do you do that?"

"Like I said, I know you Peter," she smiled at him. "You want to call Egon, don't you?"

He sighed, "No, I don't want to call him."

"I can see it in your eyes Peter," she folded her arms. "He's your best friend, this little spat you two have going on is getting a little ridiculous. You've been friends for years, and you're really going to let that friendship stay lost because of some stupid argument?"

"An argument which _he _started, and he can't fix because he gave up the business," Peter supplied.

"Again, a stupid argument Peter, the business was dying!" Dana reminded him. "What did you want him to do? You guys needed more money than what you were making, and you guys certainly didn't have enough to live by, I know that because if you did, you wouldn't have come crawling to me like a homeless person looking for a place to stay," she reminded him. "If the business was still good, you would have had enough money to keep you on your feet until you found a job."

Peter sighed, "Look, I don't want to get into this, okay? Ray and Winston are coming down, that'll be fine."

"But he's your best friend," she reminded him.

"Tell me something I don't know." Peter stood up and headed towards the bedroom.

Dana sighed frustrated. "Men!" she cried and hit the table with her fist. She wanted to call Egon herself and tell him what a fool Peter was being, but she decided against it. That would only make things worse, and it would cause her and her husband to argue. She sighed once again stuck in the middle.

Oscar came out then. "Mom?" he asked.

"Yes sweetie?" she asked.

"I'm still confused, I mean, I know Daddy gave you the baby, but I just don't understand…." He made a face. "It doesn't _sound _like fun."

"Oh honey," she cussed Peter mentally for telling him about this. "Well, at certain times it's not, but once you have the baby, it comes out of your body, you see that everything was worth it," she smiled, "I saw that when you were born. It wasn't easy, but you were worth every bit of pain."

He frowned, "I hurt you?"

"Well, that's normal, every baby that comes out hurts their Mommy, it's just all part of it. But you won't be there to see me hurting, your Uncle Ray is going to watch you."

Oscar nodded. "Okay…" he said uncertain.

"Ohh…" Dana looked surprised suddenly.

"What?" Oscar asked.

"I think your baby sister just kicked," she put Oscar's hand on her stomach.

Oscar felt it, "Wow!" he exclaimed.

Dana hugged Oscar, "See? That's part of the miracle of childbirth," she said.

"Wow Mom, that's really great," Oscar smiled, "Wait till I tell Dad!" he ran upstairs to find his father.

x x x

Peter was on his bed watching the TV that's in their bedroom. He was frustrated with himself for not patching up this argument with Egon. He longed for someone to talk to, but he also knew that Ray and Winston were around. Ray was coming over tomorrow.

Peter sighed as he picked up the phone once again. He dialled the firehouse.

"Hello?" Egon's bass voice picked up the phone.

Peter stared at the receiver a minute. "Peter? Is this you?" Egon asked.

Peter quickly hung up. He was glad he hit star 57 to block his number, otherwise Egon would have known it was him. Why couldn't he get up the guts to speak with his best friend? Sometimes, even Peter couldn't figure himself out.

Peter turned towards the door when he heard a knock. "Come in," he said.

"Dad?" Oscar slowly crept in.

"What's up kiddo?" Peter asked sitting up more.

"Guess what!" Oscar jumped on the bed next to Peter. "The baby kicked!"

"That's great!" Peter exclaimed. "How's your Mom?"

"She's fine," Oscar smiled. "She was telling me some more stuff about the baby."

"That's good," Peter flinched wishing now he told Oscar that storks brought babies. Oh well, it was good the kid new the truth. "I think it's bedtime for you kiddo, you want me to read you a story?"

"Yeah!" Oscar exclaimed.

Peter nodded and took Oscar to his room. He helped Oscar get ready for bed, and then took out one of Oscar's favourite books, and started to read once he was in bed. Peter watched his stepson as his eyes closed and smiled. _I'm gonna be a father again_, he thought, _only this time, I don't have to share it. I better make sure and not screw this up_, he thought. His mind travelled back to Egon and he sighed and leaned his head against the pillow. His exhaustion over the past months or so finally caught up with him and he fell asleep.

x x x

**April 1st**

Ray Stantz was a reasonable man, at least he thought so, but when it came to his two best friends he had it. He was sick of Egon getting upset with Peter, or visa versa. Ray had decided he was going to give Egon a call and practically force him up to LA. And that's what he did first thing on the morning that he and Winston were going to head over to the Venkmans'.

"Hello?" Egon answered the phone after Ray dialled the number.

"Hey Egon," Ray said.

"Raymond!" Egon smiled, "It's so good to hear from you, how are you?"

"I'm fine, jeez Egon, you act like we haven't seen each other in years, I just spoke to you a few weeks ago," Ray laughed.

"Yes well, it does get lonely around here at times," Egon explained. Ray nodded understanding. Egon really was playing the hermit these days, and Ray felt that he had to do everything he could to keep him sane.

"Yeah I know," he said.

"What is going on? Where are you? I do not recognize this number," Egon remarked.

"I'm in LA Egon," Ray explained quickly, "Dana's about to have a baby."

"Oh, tell her I said congratulations," there was silence after that.

"And Peter?" Ray prompted.

"Raymond, what are you getting at?" Egon asked.

"I'm trying to point out that he's your best friend Egon!" Ray said. "This buff between you two is ridiculous! It's been two years already, and he's about to have a baby, he's probably scared out of his mind and could use someone to speak to!"

Egon thought about this for a moment, "I understand Raymond; however, you and Winston are perfectly capable if not more capable than I am to speak with Peter. Winston at least has some experience."

"Fine," Ray snapped, "If that's the way you want to be don't be the mature one." He slammed the phone down angrily.

x x x

Peter had woken up early that morning, actually it was because he had a nightmare. He dreamed that his child had three arms, and was a Siamese twin or something like that. He woke up sweating. He glanced at his wife who was asleep next to him. He sighed, smiling a little. No matter how ugly she thought she was, he still thought she was beautiful. He decided it was time to hop in the shower since he was sweaty. He sniffed and made a face, "I've got to stop this," he muttered.

It started out a fairly normal day for Peter: he took Oscar to school, went to work, left early to bring Oscar home and then took another shower. When he was done, he heard the doorbell ring. Slowly, he pulled on his robe and went to answer it. He opened it up and saw Ray standing there grinning, and Winston who was next to him, doing the same.

"Guys!" Peter's heart skipped a beat because he was so relieved to finally have some of his friends around. He hugged them quickly and invited them inside.

"Hey Pete," Ray smiled, "What are you doing home so early? I figured Dana would let us in."

Peter laughed, "Actually she's asleep," he explained.

"No offence man, but you look awful," Winston remarked. "I mean, I've seen you look bad, but not like this. What's up?"

Peter sighed as he led them to the family room. They sat down on the couch. "I had another nightmare," he shrugged. "This time the baby had three arms, and was Siamese."

Ray stifled a laugh, "But Pete, your not Siamese," he joked.

Peter shrugged, "Very funny Tex," he said. "I'm scared guys. What if something's wrong with the baby and it ends up being like, mentally handicapped, or blind, or something…" he sighed shakily. "It's not fair, I bet the mothers don't even worry this much."

"You think we don't have nightmares of our own?" another voice answered. Peter turned and saw Dana standing in the doorway with her arms folded. "If that's what you think, you're way off Dr. Venkman." She glanced at the boys, "Hi Ray, hi Winston."

Ray and Winston hopped off the couch and went over to carefully hug the large woman. "Hi Dana!" Ray exclaimed happily.

Dana smiled and hugged him the best she could, "Sorry, it's not easy being like this," she muttered.

"Aww gee Dana, it's okay," Ray smiled. "I mean, gosh, you only have like a few days left, right?"

Dana nodded, "Well, the baby's due tomorrow actually, but it can happen any time now."

"Wow," Ray exclaimed. "Gosh, this is exciting. I mean, we could be standing here talking and the baby can come."

Peter smiled, "Tex, I think you're as excited as I am."

Ray laughed, "Well sure, my best friend is having a baby," he pointed out.

"Of course, just what the world needs, another Venkman," Dana teased him.

This time it was Peter's turn to laugh, he kissed Dana. Oscar came running in the living room suddenly, "Uncle Ray! Uncle Winston!" he cried happily and jumped into Ray's arms.

"Whoa, hey kiddo," Ray hugged him.

Oscar smiled. "Guess what! Daddy told me how babies are made!"

Peter groaned, "X-ney on the aby-bey…" he muttered.

"Oh he did, did he?" Ray raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah!" Oscar said. "It's real gross, but kinda cool."

Peter laughed, "Whoakay kiddo, that's enough of this conversation."

"But Daddy, you said it's okay to talk about…" Peter covered Oscar's mouth.

"Cute kid," he said and set Oscar down. "Oscar, why don't you show your Uncles your new toy car?" he suggested.

"Okay!" Oscar took off to get his toy Ecto.

"Some things never change, eh buddy?" Winston smiled.

Dana rolled her eyes at Peter and Ray could tell that somehow Dana wasn't there when all that was going on. Ray held back a laugh. That was typical Peter. Ray realized how much he missed his old friend.

"Can I get you boys anything?" Dana changed the subject.

"I should be asking that," Peter said, "Sit down hon."

"Wow, having a baby really _does _change a man," Ray laughed.

"More like, having friends over changes a man," Dana teased Peter. "No, he has been helping quite a bit though."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I turned a over a new leaf guys."

Dana sat down as Peter took drink orders. He went to go get them.

"So how has Peter been doing?" Ray asked. "I mean, job wise and everything? Is he okay now?"

Dana nodded, "He's doing fine," she answered. "Being married to a big shot Hollywood agent does have its advantages. My mother's convinced he's sleeping with all the actresses, but I've given up on trying to make those two like each other…"

Ray smiled, "That's great," he said when she was done telling him about their lives.

"In fact I…." Dana paused. "Ohh…." she muttered.

"Dana?" Winston asked. That looked horribly familiar…

"It's nothing…" she said.

She fixed her position in the chair, but that didn't help. She felt something strange again, "Ray…I think it's time…" she whispered holding her stomach.

"You mean… oh boy…" Ray cried. "Peter!"

Peter came running back in. "Yeah?" he asked. "Do you want ice in your drink?"

"My water broke!" Dana exclaimed.

"Oh, no problem, I'll get you another," Peter remarked.

"Peter!" she cried as he headed back in the kitchen, "MY WATER BROKE!"

"Your water…ohhh… ohhhhhh!" he finally got it. Frantically he put the drinks down, "Ray, uh, call 911…no wait, we'll take her… I got to find the keys…." He was searching everywhere.

"Uh Peter," Ray coughed to interrupt him.

"What? I have to find the car keys!" he cried.

"They're um, in your pocket," Ray pointed to a key that was sticking out of Peter's jean pocket.

"Right!" he said. "Let's go, I'll drive!"

"Oh no you don't," Winston said. "Not with the way you're acting, I'm driving."

"Okay then, let's go!" with that Peter helped Dana out to the car and they all took off.

x x x

Oscar meanwhile, finally found his toy Ecto that Peter had gotten him for his birthday. He ran back into the living room expecting to see everyone still there, but instead he found that no one was there.

"Mommy? Daddy?" he asked. "Uncle Ray? Uncle Winston?"

No answer. _Weird_, he thought. _They would never leave me_. He looked around a little more, and saw that no one was there. Oscar shrugged and put his car on the floor and began to play with it.

x x x

"WAIT!" Dana screamed as Winston was pulling out of the driveway.

"What?" Peter asked holding her hand.

"Aren't we forgetting someone?" she offered.

"Ohmygosh!" Ray cried, "Oscar!"

"Brilliant Holmes," Dana said.

In a flash, Winston drove the car back in the garage and Ray ran out. He found Oscar sitting on the floor of the living room playing with his toy car. Ray quickly picked him up and buckled him up in the backseat of the car.

"I'm sorry baby," Dana hugged Oscar.

"It's okay Mommy," Oscar said. "What's going on?"

"Mommy's going to have the baby now," Ray explained since Peter was too distracted to talk much.

"Hurry Winston!" Peter cried.

"Roger that," Winston said. Winston floored it.

"Guys!" exclaimed Dana. "Will you stop panicking? It won't start properly for hours yet! Come on, Winston – you've been through it. You know how this stuff works."

"Well yeah," agreed Winston. "But Kaila's labour was surprisingly quick. Charlene was outta there in less than seven hours."

"SEVEN HOURS?" shrieked Dana, just as a mediocre contraction set in. "That is _so_ not fair! Oscar took twenty-three!"

"Twenty-three hours?" Peter gulped nervously.

"Hey," suddenly ventured Winston. "Am I going the right way for the hospital?"

x x x

They finally arrived at the hospital. Outside the emergency room Peter found one of the EMT personnel and grabbed him. "My wife's having a baby!" was all he could manage.

"Okay sir, calm down, and we'll get her a wheelchair," the blonde haired man said. A moment later a wheelchair was brought out.

"I got her!" Peter grabbed the chair and pushed Dana inside. "I need a doctor!"

Winston put a hand on his shoulder, "Calm down Pete," he said. "The baby's not coming out right this minute."

Peter looked at him, and chose to ignore him. He walked over to the front desk. "I need a doctor!" Peter exclaimed.

"What's the extent of your injuries?" the counter nurse asked.

"Not for me! My wife! She's having a baby! Hurry up and get someone!" he snapped.

"First of all, sir, you need to calm down if you want our help. Secondly, you need to fill out paperwork first," she said and pointed to a stack of papers.

"You've got to be kidding me," Peter moaned. "Fine, I'll fill out your paperwork," he snapped and took it back to one of the seats.

"Peter!" Dana hissed.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked grabbing her hand.

She took her hand away from him. "Calm down!" she said.

Peter looked at the guys and they nodded too, but they were smiling. Peter quickly filled out the paperwork and took it to the front desk. "There, it's filled out, now we need a doctor," he said a little more calmly than before.

The nurse nodded, "I see, very well Dr. Venkman, one will be here momentarily. Please continue to have a seat."

Peter lost it. "This is a hospital! You're supposed to help people!"

"We will help you as soon as you calm yourself," the nurse exclaimed.

"Peter, please!" Dana snapped. "You're not helping here!"

Peter sighed and sat back down next to her. "You doing alright honey?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. "Better than you are anyway." She held Peter's hand. "Try and calm down Peter, I've been through this before."

"But I haven't," Peter muttered. Dana smiled and kissed his cheek, "I know," she said. She had to admit to herself that he was doing better than Andre. At least he was taking an interest. But… well, there had to be a happy medium, surely.

Peter smiled back. Finally after what seemed like ages, a doctor came out. Peter stood up and shook his hand.

"I'm Dr. Smith," he smiled. "And you must be Peter and Dana Venkman, and I'm guessing this is Oscar." He looked down at Oscar.

Oscar waved shyly as he sat in Ray's lap.

"Please follow me Dr. Venkman, oh, and you'll have to change into some hospital clothes," the doctor instructed. He grabbed Dana's wheelchair and started to push her down the hall.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Peter shrugged and took off after him.

Oscar sat in Ray's lap keeping quiet. "Uncle Ray?" he finally asked.

"Yeah kiddo?" Ray smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Can I go explore?"

Ray looked at Winston, "I don't see why not," Ray shrugged. "But one of us should go with you."

"But I'll just go down this hall!" Oscar complained. "Please?"

Winston shrugged, "I suppose it's alright, but check back with us, ok?"

Oscar nodded. He began to wander down the hall. "This must be tough on the little guy," Ray remarked.

"Yeah," Winston agreed. "I remember when my younger sister was born, man, I was so jealous. I thought Mom and Dad would love her more."

"Yeah, and Oscar isn't even Peter's biological son, it must be hard for him thinking that Peter's going to love the new baby more," Ray said.

Winston nodded unhappily.

x x x

Oscar wandered down the hall. He had mixed feelings about the whole thing. On one side of it, he was excited, on the other side, he was mad. Not mad really, more like, upset because he knew that Peter would love this baby more than him. Sure, Peter always made sure to tell Oscar he loved him, but at the same time, Oscar wasn't even his real son. Oscar moped around a little as he wandered the hall.

"Is anybody there?" a voice from inside a room called.

Oscar glanced around, nobody was near him, so Oscar thought maybe the person in the room was referring to him. Oscar peeked his head inside.

"H-Hello?" he asked.

"Is anyone out there? A nurse or someone? I'm hungry," the patient said, "and I can't seem to get anyone's attention."

Oscar walked over to the patient's bed and noticed it was an older lady, looked about in her eighties or so, and she was crying.

"Hey, don't cry," Oscar said and held her hand. "I'm here now and I'll find someone."

She looked down at him, "How old are you sonny, four?"

"Five," Oscar answered proudly. "I just turned five."

She smiled, "Oh, you're halfway to the double digits. You're getting to be a big boy, what are you doing wandering around the hospital all by yourself?" she asked. "Where's your Mommy and Daddy?"

Oscar looked down, "They're a little busy," he whispered.

"Oh?" the older women raised her eyebrows.

Oscar nodded, "My Mommy is having a baby," he said.

"Oh, you must be very excited," the woman smiled. "You're going to be an older brother!"

"Kinda," Oscar said.

"What do you mean?" the woman asked.

"Well see, it's like this…" Oscar explained the situation. "Anyway, Daddy is going to love the other baby more because it came from Daddy, not from Andre." Oscar looked down.

"I see," the older woman nodded. "Well, you have nothing to worry about son, your father will love you still the same, and just because he's having his own baby doesn't mean that he will love you any less. You see, being a father doesn't mean that you're related by blood all the time. Why, I've known some fathers who were horrible to their kids, but their stepfathers were the best!" she exclaimed with a smile. "Sounds like this Peter fellow is more of a father to you than your birth father," she pointed out.

Oscar nodded, "Well yeah…Andre did call me on my birthday though, but I think Kate was the one who reminded him."

"And what did Peter do for you?" she asked.

Oscar went into the details of his birthday party. The older woman smiled. "There, you see? Peter loves you just as much. I'm not saying Andre loves you any less, but Peter's there for you even more." She ruffled Oscar's hair. "Why don't you go run along and go see your baby brother or sister?"

Oscar smiled, "Wait, what's your name?" he asked.

"Jessica," she answered.

"Do you still need a doctor?" Oscar asked.

"Yes, although they won't be able to help me much, not with what I have," she sighed.

Oscar stared at her, "What do you mean? You'll be alright, I mean, you're in a hospital."

The woman stared at him, "I know, but you see, I'm dying," she whispered quietly. "But I'm really glad you came to visit me. Not many people have." She smiled.

Oscar smiled a little too. He was glad he came also. He ran back to Ray and Winston.

"Any news?" Oscar asked.

"None yet kiddo," Ray smiled. "Did you have fun?"

Oscar nodded not telling Ray about the older woman he met.

x x x

Dana's fingers were boring into the bones of Peter's hand as though trying to snap them clean in half – maybe even crush them to powder. He wanted to make a noise – say "ow" or something at the very least – but obviously he just couldn't.

When that one was over, Dana fell back on the pillows to catch her breath and then said bitterly, "Whoever first suggested God might be a woman obviously never gave birth. He must be some chauvinistic pig to have designed procreation this way."

Peter had realised this – or something along those lines – a few hours ago, and he was actually feeling pretty guilty about it now. His part in making this baby had been over nine months ago, after a few extremely enjoyable seconds. Dana had enjoyed herself too at the time, but afterwards she had to lug a growing baby around inside her, occasionally feeling sick and having to put up with everybody telling her not to strain herself and asking the same old irritating questions. And now this: God knew how many hours of searing agony. It was horrible to watch, never mind what it must be like actually to go through it. How long had she said it took with Oscar? Twenty-three hours, wasn't it? _Oh Jesus H. Christ…_

"I'm sorry, Dana," Peter said feebly.

"Yeah, well," mumbled Dana. She _wanted _to have Peter's baby, but it was easy to forget all the good things in the middle of labour. She thought about when Oscar was born… the first time she had held him… how utterly useless Andre had been. Peter, though getting on her nerves with his reassurances and sheer ignorance of her pain, was doing a hell of a lot better than Andre had. For one thing he was still awake. Suddenly Dana took pity on him – yes, she had the raw deal, but at least she'd done this before – and said, "Honey, will you please go check on Oscar for me?"

"Sure," agreed Peter. "Will you be ok?"

"There's doctors here," Dana reminded him, tilting her head towards the team of three people who were busy in various parts of the room, Dr. Smith examining her in a delicate area. She was trying not to think about that.

It was getting on for eight o'clock when Peter ventured out into the corridor: around Oscar's normal bedtime. When Peter found him, the kid was falling asleep across the laps of Winston and Ray.

"We took him to the canteen at six," Ray said quietly to Peter, instinctively trying not to wake Oscar. "I shouldn't think he normally gets burgers and fries for dinner."

"Not normally," agreed Peter, crouching down and stroking Oscar's dark head fondly. "Guys, it's horrible in there. She's in agony and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I remember that," Winston smiled sympathetically. "But it'll be worth it – just wait."

"Another nineteen hours," sighed Peter. "What I really wanna do is try calling my dad again. I haven't heard anything from him since I got back from honeymoon."

"Go on then," offered Ray, gesturing towards the payphone just opposite them. "Do you have a quarter?"

Peter _did _have a quarter, but as it transpired he didn't have to sacrifice it to the payphone. Charlie Venkman's cell was switched off.

"While you're there and you still have that quarter," ventured Winston, "you could try calling Egon."

"Ah Winston, don't," murmured Ray. "I tried that this morning."

Peter shook his head. "No way," he fairly spat.

"What about Janine?" asked Ray.

Peter glanced at the phone. He and Janine were still on speaking terms. She'd been at the wedding last year and heard about the pregnancy from Dana. But Peter shook his head and said again, "Not now. I need to get back to Dana. Actually I haven't spoken to Janine since… ummm… wow – since the wedding! Guys." He wandered back over to his two friends and looked pleadingly down at them. "Please, _please _tell me she isn't still seeing that creep Louis Tully."

Ray and Winston exchanged awkward glances, but fortunately they were rescued by the sudden appearance of a cheerful young nurse who announced brightly, "Dr. Venkman, your wife's asking for you."

Peter stooped down and kissed Oscar's forehead, and then followed the nurse back to the delivery room. Dana was suddenly looking pretty mad; she'd obviously just come out of a contraction.

"Well?" she demanded sharply. "Is he ok?"

"He's fine," Peter assured her. "He's kinda falling asleep actually."

Dana sighed and said, "I guess we didn't really think this through when we bundled him into the back of the car in the middle of the afternoon."

"Mrs. Venkman," ventured Dr. Smith, who had moments before been poking around. "How are the contractions?"

"Very nice thank you," Dana snapped sarcastically. "Well, they hurt. But they actually aren't as bad as my last labour."

"No?" Dr. Smith asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Not quite, no," Dana told him. "But I know it's gonna get worse."

Peter's eyes widened in alarm. "It's gonna get _worse_?" he asked incredulously.

"It gets progressively worse right up until you have to actually push the damn thing out," Dana told him. "When I was having Oscar I felt like I… ooh… OW!"

Peter lunged forward and grabbed her hand, and the squeezing started all over again. Dana fancied that this contraction was slightly worse than the last. The next one: worse still. But as bad as the pain got, it still wasn't quite close to what she had endured for Oscar. _I guess I've still got that to look forward to_, Dana thought bitterly.

As Peter was stroking her hair and telling her she was doing brilliantly, it got to the point where Dana just had to shut him up. But she didn't want to yell at him like she had with Andre. He was trying _so _hard.

"We haven't thought much about names yet," she pointed out. "Any ideas?"

"Now?" asked Peter.

"Why _not _now?" Dana snapped irritably. Then she said, more calmly, "Didn't you say a while back that if it's a girl you might want to name her after your mom?"

Peter's mother had been dead for several years. Of course he still missed her, and now Dana was giving birth to the woman's grandchild. It did seem appropriate to offer some kind of tribute.

"Yeah," said Peter, "I did – but my mom's name was Margaret."

Dana was slightly confused, but gave him a moment to expand on his point. When he didn't, she asked simply, "So?"

"Well you can't call a baby Margaret," reasoned Peter. "That's a grown-up name."

"Oh." Dana was momentarily stumped. "It's ok for a middle name, though."

"Sure," smiled Peter. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Oscar didn't have a name until he was several hours old," Dana told him. "And when we finally did come up with something it was kind of a compromise."

"You don't like Oscar's name?"

"Well I like it now – it's grown on me. But I didn't like it much at the time, and neither did Andre. This time I want to call the baby something we both love."

"And Oscar loves," added Peter. "He's gonna be the one yelling it the most, after all."

"Peter," Dana began carefully. "You're doing…" – she considered – "as well as can be expected, I guess. I wish you could have been with me the first time."

"So do I," Peter sighed regretfully, knowing full well that it was entirely his fault he hadn't been there. She would have married him the first time around if only he'd asked her. Of course that would mean no Oscar…

"Peter!" Dana interrupted his thoughts loudly. "Hand!"

He let her punish his hand while she swore and grimaced her way through another contraction. It still wasn't as bad as it had been with Oscar. Every time a contraction kicked in she expected to accompany it that horrible feeling that she could split in two at any moment. But it just didn't come.

"Ok!" Dr. Smith exclaimed smilingly, suddenly popping up from underneath Dana's hospital gown. "I think your baby's nearly ready to come out."

Dana just stared at him for a moment. Then she asked, her voice filled with incredulity, "Really?"

"Absolutely," beamed Dr. Smith.

"You wouldn't joke about that, would you?" Dana asked suspiciously.

"Of course not," the doctor laughed. "We'll have the little guy out of there within the hour."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Dana. "How long has it been?"

"About six hours," replied Williams.

"Six hours?" Dana's face suddenly spread into a smile. She felt ridiculously pleased with herself. "Six hours! Excellent!" That was half the average time. It was going to be over about seventeen hours sooner than she had dared to hope. "Hear that, honey? She'll be here soon!"

"She?" queried Peter.

"Yes," Dana half-smiled. "At least I hope so." She _really _hoped so. She had already vowed to try again if it was a boy, and that was not an encouraging thought at the start of the most intense contraction yet.

Peter somehow chose to block the next twenty minutes or so from his memory. All he could remember afterwards was that there had been blood, the odd scream and a few unpleasant looking instruments being waved threateningly around, though thankfully they hadn't been required. Everything went blurry for a few moments, and Dana was lost in her own bottomless pit of extreme pain while the doctors and nurses busied themselves with whatever it was they did. And then suddenly they were both aware of Dr. Smith's voice telling them happily, "It's a girl!"

"Is she ok?" Peter and Dana asked simultaneously, for here was the moment that came into all of the nightmares.

"She's fine," Dr. Smith assured them. "We'll just clean her up…"

Cleaning her up seemed to involve a most alarming sucking sound, but Peter chose to ignore that while Dana fell back in an exhausted heap. "Peter," she murmured. "I want to make it clear now that I am _never _doing that again."

"Are you ok?" asked Peter.

"I feel fine _now_," she said, suddenly sitting up and peering anxiously across the room towards her baby. "Actually it wasn't nearly so bad the second time."

Part of her was worrying that she was going to start haemorrhaging like she had done when Oscar was born, but she couldn't think about that right now. She was overcome with emotion when she heard the baby gurgle, and moments later her daughter was placed in her arms.

"She's so tiny!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Less than nine pounds, I think. That was my son's birth weight."

"She's a little over seven pounds," Smith told her.

"Wow," Dana marvelled. "No wonder you were so much easier to push out. Hi there. Hey." She looked up at the doctors. "Can you please fetch our friends and our son?"

All three of them left, as they knew from experience that this ought to be an alone moment. Dana looked at Peter. He was staring, absolutely dumbfounded, at the tiny shrivelled-up bright red person that was blinking bemusedly back at him.

"Well?" Dana asked smilingly.

"It's a baby!"

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yeah…" although he was actually thinking that "beautiful" didn't quite cut it.

Dana handed Peter their daughter, instinctively correcting the awkward posture of his arms, and said, "I can't believe she's so small. She was kicking me harder than Oscar ever did."

"Soccer player, huh?" Peter grinned lopsidedly.

"Ha!" Dana laughed dryly. "You could be right."

Oscar smiled as he was finally allowed in the room. He could see a little baby crying. "Wow…" he whispered.

Ray noticed Peter looked absolutely as exhausted as Dana was. "Go on…" Ray urged. Ray smiled at Peter and Peter smiled back. He definitely looked emotionally drained.

"Come on kiddo," Peter said, "Come meet your new sister."

Oscar slowly and nervously walked over to Peter. "We don't have a name yet, we figured maybe you had an idea," Peter said.

"Really?" Oscar was wide eyed. "You really mean it?"

Peter nodded, "It's all yours."

Dana smiled at her son, "That's right kiddo," she said quietly. "We've saved the best part for last."

Oscar hugged Peter and Dana. Then he thought of a name. He thought of the older woman who was dying in the bed not too far from them. "Jessica," was all he said. "Her name is Jessica."

"That's a beautiful name," Dana remarked, "Where did you get that idea?"

"I just thought of it," Oscar lied. He didn't want to tell them about the older woman just yet, now wasn't the time.

Peter nodded, "Jessica it is then." He smiled as well, taking the baby from his wife. "Good job kiddo."

"How are you feeling Dana?" Ray asked.

"I'm fine," she said. "I couldn't be happier."

Ray smiled.

Oscar suddenly caught sight of the clock on the wall. Ten o'clock at night – it was past his bedtime! Brilliant! And nobody even seemed to care.

"Go on then." Dana was now looking at Peter. "Go and get it over with."

Peter sighed, handing Jessica back to her mother, and said, "Can't I get Oscar to do it?"

"Do what?" asked Oscar.

"Call Grandma and Grandpa," explained Peter.

"Oh," Oscar nodded his understanding. "Hey… wait a minute. It's April first."

Was it still April first? After all that? Peter could hardly believe it. "So?" he asked.

"Well," mused Oscar, "if you call Grandma now and tell her Mom's had a baby, she won't believe you."

Peter honestly thought that Valerie Barrett had more faith in him than that, but it seemed that Oscar knew his maternal grandmother only too well. Peter found himself shivering out on the quad outside the hospital, cell phones being banned inside the building, trying to convince his mother-in-law that she really _did _have another grandchild.

"Honestly!" he was saying desperately. "Her name's Jessica and she's a little over seven pounds and she was born about half an hour ago. Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I know you too well, Peter Venkman," Val retorted. "All right, I'll believe you. But if we fly all the way out there and find that this is one of your ridiculous April Fools pranks…"

"Even _I _wouldn't stoop that low," Peter told her solemnly. "Jessica, she's… wow. Oscar picked the name."

"Well at least he has better taste than his father."

_Who, me? Oh… _"Don't you like Oscar's name either?"

"It does very well, especially when you consider that it could have been _a lot_ worse. So how is he? In bed, I hope," she added, in almost menacing tones.

"Bed? No way," Peter returned breezily. "He's here at the hospital with us. He's just become a brother – we're not gonna make him go to bed yet."

"WHAT?" shrieked Val, absolutely horrified. "But it must be gone ten o'clock where you are!"

"Oh come on, it's just _one _late night. And I guess he'll be too tired for school tomorrow."

"Oh, Peter!"

"He'll want to hear all about the birth, I suppose," Peter went on, enjoying himself now. "He's been asking a lot of questions lately, as you can probably imagine. A couple of weeks ago he asked me how the baby got _into _Dana in the first place."

"What did you tell him?" Val asked cautiously.

"The truth," shrugged Peter.

"Oh Peter, you didn't!" exclaimed Val.

"Honestly Mrs. B, it's much better to be honest," Peter said breezily. "He was a little freaked out at first, but when we sat down and looked at my Playboys I think he quite enjoyed himself."

"WHAT?"

"Don't panic – I'm kidding."

"Oh." He heard her breath out heavily. "Whoever invented April Fools Day should have been shot."

"Oh yeah, it's April Fools Day…" Peter remembered again. "I was only kidding about the Playboys. Oscar really _does_ know where babies come from and Dana really had one tonight. So I guess we'll see you soon?" _Every silver lining has a cloud…_

"We'll get a flight out there as soon as we can," Val assured him. "Give mine and Gerald's love to Dana."

"Hmm?" Peter had stopped listening. He was suddenly distracted by a vaguely familiar shape moving around in the darkness. "Uh – yeah, yeah, that's great. Gotta go bye," and he snapped shut his flash silver cell phone with equal haste. Then he moved a little closer to the silhouette, hardly daring to hope, and called out, "Dad?"

"Peter!" the silhouette exclaimed, moving closer to reveal itself as none other than Charlie Venkman. "I thought it was you! I've been looking for you for ages – I had to get someone from your office to point me in the right direction. Your cell phone hasn't been switched on since about four o'clock this afternoon."

"Well of course it hasn't," retorted Peter. "Those things screw up the hospital equipment. I've been here all afternoon and evening."

"Why?" asked Charlie, looking anxiously up at the large hospital building.

"Dad, did you get my message saying Dana was pregnant?"

"Yes… eventually. Sorry I couldn't stop by, son – I've been - "

"Dodging the law, I know," Peter interrupted impatiently. "Dad, Dana just had the baby!"

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise. "What, just now?" he asked incredulously.

"About half an hour ago."

"Oh Peter… wow!"

"I know!"

It felt wonderful to Charlie to see his son so happy. Peter also seemed tired, dazed and slightly hysterical, but most of all he seemed incredibly _happy_. _I am gonna be _such _a good grandfather to your kid_, Charlie vowed silently. _I'm gonna be a better grandparent than I was parent…_

"So why are we standing out here?" he asked out loud. "I wanna go me meet…"

"Her," Peter provided. "Jessica. She's just… come on!" and he grabbed his father's wrist and practically dragged him into the hospital.

Needless to say, Jessica Margaret Venkman was an instant success with her grandfather. It was too bad, Charlie reflected, that the happiest occasions were what made him miss his wife the most, and Peter undoubtedly felt the same way. It was nothing short of tragic that Margaret was missing this moment. Charlie, still holding his granddaughter somewhat awkwardly, looked vaguely around him. It occurred to him that maybe she _wasn't _missing it at all.

"Can I hold her?" suddenly asked Oscar.

Charlie and Peter (Winston and Ray had politely left – this had to be a family moment) both looked enquiringly at Dana. She looked reluctant, but then she beckoned Oscar over to the hospital bed and said, "Sure. C'mon, honey – you can sit here with me."

She positioned Oscar on her lap, and then gestured for Charlie to come over with Jessica. It occurred to Oscar that he might now be second best in his Grandpa Charlie's estimation, but he tried not to worry about it just yet. It all felt very strange: having a sister, not being the only thing in the centre of his parents' world anymore, holding in his arms and looking down at the thing he had been so dreading. She was so tiny, but despite her size he just _knew _she was going to turn his whole world upside-down. But suddenly the prospect felt kind of ok.

"Hi Jess," smiled Oscar. Then suddenly his eyes widened, and he exclaimed as though in horrific realisation, "Oh no!"

"What, honey?" Dana asked anxiously, instantly panicking that Oscar had spotted something wrong with the baby.

"Jess," Oscar sighed despairingly. "Now we _both_ have cat names."

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. "Cat names?" he queried.

"Oscar and Jess," Oscar elaborated. "Grandpa Charlie, if you talk to anyone about Oscar and Jess, they'll think we're your cats."

x x x

October 1st 1993 

Over the last year or so, Peter had looked over all of his old notes and textbooks and stuff on child psychology and practically memorised them. _"The older child will be less likely to feel jealous if you include him or her in the day-to-day care of the baby…"_ And so it was that Oscar found himself holding a squirming and giggling Jessica down in the bath while Peter sponged her clean.

"She's crazy about you," remarked Peter. "She thinks you're the greatest guy in the world. I'm almost jealous."

"Don't be jealous," advised Oscar. "You're already jealous of Andre."

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "You noticed?" he asked.

"You don't have to be jealous," Oscar told him. "I don't love Andre. I love _you_."

"All right, I won't be jealous," Peter agreed. _Like that'll happen… what happened to not lying_? "But you have to promise me that you won't be jealous of your sister. I love you _both_."

It was difficult to hug while they each had one hand on a distinctly wriggly baby, but somehow they managed it. Then Oscar was suddenly reminded of Jessica's namesake. It occurred to him that the old woman might very well be dead by now… might have been dead for weeks, or even months. He pulled sharply away from Peter, suddenly trying to blink back tears.

"What on earth is the matter?" Peter asked in panicked tones. The kid was perfectly happy a minute ago!

"I was just thinking about when we were in the hospital," Oscar confided. "I didn't like it there much. It smelled funny."

"No one likes the smell of hospitals," Peter told him.

"I met someone called Jessica," Oscar went on. "That's why I wanted to call Jess Jessica."

"Oh."

"She was old," said Oscar. "She told me she was dying."

"Oh Oscar…" murmured Peter, suddenly feeling terrible for his son. Oscar quite understood about death. He knew that Peter's mother had died a long time ago. He had been devastated on hearing it; he had cried for weeks, and had to check periodically that his own mother hadn't suddenly died. Dana had been furious. She'd thought her son might be damaged for life.

"I talked about you and she said you sounded like a good dad, and she said you wouldn't love the baby more than you love me."

"Well she was right."

"She's probably dead."

"Oscar…"

"I just realised," Oscar explained. "And it made me feel sad."

Peter pulled Jessica out of the bath and used the moment to think. He wrapped her up in a beige towel and then took both of his kids into a hug, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Everyone dies eventually," he told Oscar carefully. "And it _is_ said. If this woman was old, then it was probably time for her to die. It's still sad, but at least she had a full life. None of _us _are going to die just yet, Oscar. You haven't been worrying about that again, have you?" _Your mother would kill me…_

Oscar shook his head. Then he suddenly said, "Egon would like to see Jess."

"WHAT?"

"He's your best friend," Oscar explained patiently. "I think he'd like to see Jess."

"Um… I'll send him a picture," Peter mumbled feebly.

"Mom already did," Oscar told him breezily. "If everybody dies, it seems silly to waste the time when you're not dead not talking to your friends. I bet if you talked to him you could make up."

Peter just stared at him. The kid was five and he'd just come out with one of the most profound things Peter had ever heard. Well, Oscar _was_ a budding musician. Weren't musicians supposed to be deep? His advice was probably quite sensible too, but Peter didn't reflect on that.

"C'mon short stuff," he said, getting to his feet and trying not to drop Jessica or turn her upside-down or anything. "What about if _you_ read to Jessie tonight?"

"Can I play her my Iron Maiden CD instead?" Oscar asked shrilly, as he followed Peter out of the bathroom.

"I don't think that'll put her to sleep, Oscar."

"We could try it."

"We _could_, but your mom would withhold deserts for like a month."

"Oh… ok then."

x x x

Later that night Peter woke up to crying. He moaned, he was definitely NOT a morning person, and considering it was 3am, well, this was DEFINITELY morning. He sighed as he pulled the covers over his head. He was hoping it would stop.

"I'll get it," Dana mumbled knowing full and well Peter wasn't going to get up.

Peter smiled at her, "No, you relax," he said. "It's not like you haven't done your fair share." He kissed her cheek.

"Ok, who are you and what did you do to my husband?" she teased.

Peter laughed, "Haha," he said and put his robe on. He strolled over to the baby's room to check on her.

Peter picked her up, she was looking right at him, "Hey honey," he whispered, "What's bothering you?" he asked. He held her in his arms and rocked her back and forth.

She looked at him and smiled.

"Hi, yeah, it's me, Daddy," he whispered. _Daddy, wow, _he thought. _Who would have thought_? This time it was real. This was _his_ flesh and blood. Sure, he considered Oscar flesh and blood, but it still wasn't the same. Although, he loved Oscar as much as this child. But this was different, he helped _make_ this child. A tear fell from his eye as he held her.

The baby cried and whimpered a little, Peter rocked her back and forth, then he slowly rocked her over to the little tape recorder they had in her room. Dana would let her listen to music to relax her. Peter turned on the stereo and some soft music was playing. He started dancing with Jessica and smiled as she looked up into his eyes.

What he didn't notice was Dana standing there smiling. When he turned he noticed her and blushed a little.

"What are you doing?" Dana asked him gently.

"Dancing," he whispered.

She smiled, "So I see," she went over to him and kissed him. "May I cut in?"

"Of course," seeing that Jess was asleep, he placed her back in her crib, and slowly started to dance with Dana. It was then that he realized that his life was now complete, and he also realized that maybe… maybe he _did_ have Egon to thank for it. But then… he would decide that later. Right now, there were other things on his mind.

THE END


End file.
